Warm Whispers
by FirePhoniex12
Summary: AU: In between Legend and Prodigy. Day doesn't have an injured leg. They are trying to find the Patriots. A lot June/Day fluff that we don't get to see in the book (and some heavy make-out sessions) May turn M, but I shall warn you if it does.
1. Waking Up

JUNE

Even after weeks of running, Day manages to look perfect. He is sleeping against the wall of an abandoned warehouse found. Sunlight is coming through the broken windows, making a fitting halo around his golden hair. I would love to stay here forever like this. But he is murmuring something again. "No...please...don't." His eyebrows scrunch and his hair reaches out for someone that isn't there anymore. I pull it to my lips. He relaxes again. "Wake up, Day," I mumble along with knuckles. "Day."

He straightens almost immediately. "June?"

"Yeah, I'm here. It's time to go. Come on." I let of his hand and toss him his jacket.

As I move to get up, he catches my hand again. I let him drag me into his lap. "It can wait."

"D-" He presses up against me and puts his lips to my neck. The words die in my throat. That blonde hair brushes my throat when he reaches my collarbone. He sucks harder. I struggle to keep my breathing steady. We have to get moving. "Day, we have to-" A tongue darts of his stupid (beautiful) mouth and runs itself in hollow of my neck. I let out a small moan. He stops suddenly. I can feel his grin. He stays still, blowing cool air where his tongue had been. It sends shivers through me. My eyes flutter closed. I give up. Then, the closeness is gone. I open my eyes. He pulled away.

"You're right," he says, laughter in his eyes "We should really get going." He casts me a teasing look and moves to stand. My face feels hot, but at the moment, I didn't care. I grab his collar and drag him down, pressing my lips to his. I can feel a smug smile on his lips. I can feel one on mine too.

Nothing is like kissing Day.

DAY

_June._ I've kissed a lot of girls before. And trust me, there were a lot fun times. But kissing June made everything okay again. The days were bright, the nights were filled with stars and reality didn't matter. All that mattered was June. And she was in my arms.

I pin her to the wall. Her hands slid my collar to my chest. She's smiling. She rarely starts kisses. I liked that about this one. June would never say so, but she's shy. I can feel her hot blush and tentative hands. I love that blush. She melts into me slowly. I move against her lips, slipping my hands around her waist. She gasps as I trail my hands beneath her shirt, tracing light circles. She has back dimples. Suddenly, she slips her tongue into my mouth. I let out a moan as she somehow got her hands under my shirt. Those hands traced every muscle lightly. I groan in frustration, pressing into her more. Then, she distracts me again by massaging her tongue against mine. "Damn it, June," I groan. My body is on fire.

I feel my head hit the wall and her warmth is gone. She moves too fast for me to catch her arm. The next thing I see is her ponytail swinging back and forth.

"We really should be going." There is a smirk in her voice.

I let out a breath, trying to calm myself down. "Let's do that _every_ time we have to get going."

She only replies with a laugh, echoing throughout the warehouse.


	2. Truth or Dare?

Chapter Two: Truth or Dare?

**DAY**

We arrive marketplace near sunset, the busiest time of the day. I watch June as she talks to the seller. A young guy in his twenties. He probably didn't do so well on his test. June's eyes are alive with questions. _Of course she's curious._ I know she's not flirting with him, but the way he is looking at her makes my stomach churn.

I excuse myself, claiming the urge to pee. He's obviously distracted when I lurk near the stall. My eyes roam the products. So _much food. _My stomach growls. I snatch a couple of apples, donuts and granola bars; basically anything in sight. There is a barely opened bottle of alcohol on his desk. I think about my first kiss with June and glance back at the man. He is leaning towards her, lowering his voice. I stuff it into my jacket without another thought.

"Hey...hey...what are you doing!?" His eyes are wide, peering around June's shoulder. I whip around run into the crowd of people. I see him push her in the corner of my eye. She knees him in the gut and sprints in the opposite direction. He kneels for a second. I smile as I take off. _June._

I run and run. His angry shouts turn heads. I just laugh. I slip through the crowds I am so used to while he bumbles about, knocking angry people down. The stands and people soon blur into just wisps of colors.

I miss this. Being among the streets in my element. I miss running, not for my life, but because I want to run. I could easily run down an alley and scale the wall high enough where he wouldn't reach me. _But where's the fun in that?_ The wind whipped through my hair, challenging me to a race. My legs burned with adrenaline, daring me to go further. I _could_ go further. The sun is setting. I almost feel like I can reach it, if it will only slow down a bit. Running was what I was used to. Running was familiar, like Tess. A pang goes through my heart at the thought of her. I wonder where she is now and if she's safe. I looked and looked. She's no longer on the streets. I really hope she's safe with the Patriots. I run harder and think about nothing but running.

Running was where I am invincible.

**JUNE**

I sit on the stone steps of the city library. Day and I agreed to meet here. There is still a little bit of building left, but mostly been destroyed by fire. Most of the sun is gone, leaving the sky a golden purple. The wind picks up and I shiver. I climb in through broken window and survey the area. Scattered pages littered the floor, but no books were in sight. No people either. Glass chimed against the floor. I push a book shelf towards the window and I rummage through my pack. I pull out a black scarf and sweep up the glass. There are a couple of chairs (4, 3 bit charred and 1 missing a leg). I push them towards the window to get out later. After I dump the glass in the corner, I pull it on the scarf so it is covering my mouth. The sun is gone and only moonlight shines through the window. Day should be back any minute now, so I keep myself busy until then.

Graffiti wraps along the walls, each of the words fighting for attention. I look for words in black and red. There are 87 in total, but only a few stick out to me.

"Day Lives!" The "Lives!" is crossed out and replaced with a red "is Dead."

Another in all black says, "Day will come back."

"Day is Legend."

"Our hero is **Day**."

"We will follow Day."

"I KISSED DAY!?"

Quite a lot of them (36) are about Day. They seem to fighting back and forth on his mortality. I see a lot about the Republic too.

"They don't care."  
>"THE REPUBLIC SUCKS."<p>

"**THE REPUBLIC DOES NOT CARE.**"

"The only solution is war."

"**FIGHT BACK. FOR DAY**."

And then another in big red angry letters, "Day Lives."

So many people believe in their Legend. It seems like everyone needs something to believe in.

In the middle, I see a geometric rose spray painted from black and red. It's right above the abandoned spray cans, black and red. The first thing that hasn't screamed something. I venture closer towards it. The red sparkles under my touch. The stroke was smooth and constant, unlike some of the shaky slogans. If I picked it apart by shape, it would just be tilted squares and triangles. The more I looked, I saw that each line was interconnected in some way. As if the rose just formed by accident. Beauty born from mess. Maybe it was saying something.

I hear a crash behind me and grip the knife in my back pocket, whirling around. It's just Day, hopping from chair to chair, like it was a game. My grip loosens.

"Day," I groan.  
>He hops off the chair and onto the ground, "No one says my name like that."<p>

"I must be some 'no one', then. I say it like that in my head all the time."

He scrunches his nose and crosses the room. Before I know it, his arms are around me and his lips on mine. My heart skips a beat. I'm embarrassed by my reaction. "You're so cold," he says, pulling my closer. I hide my face, a blush burning across my cheeks. Warm instantly surrounds me. I feel the weight of his chin on top of my head.

"I'm not now," my voice is muffled against his chest.

He hugs tighter. "Yeah, you're not."

Something was off. I pull back to look at him in the eyes. "What's wrong?"  
>Day looks away for the briefest second, "Nothing. Nothing's wrong." His eyes hold mine. I don't believe him. I can always tell when he is lying. "Nothing, I swear."<p>

"Okay." I slip my icy fingers into his jacket. He jumps at my touch, pulling back a bit. There's a bottle shaped lump in his jacket."What is this?"

He smiled sleepily at me, "Would you do me the honor of having a drink with me?" He pulls out the bottle and tilts it toward me. My mind flashed back to a certain alleyway.

"Why not?" I grab the bottle and take a swing. The clear liquid burns its way down my throat. My stomach feels warm. I pass it back to Day.

After a couple of back and forth swings, I can feel the effects. I spin around a bit and laugh. Moonlight was everywhere! And there's Day. He's looking at me and there's a dopey smile on his face. I get an idea. "Truth or dare?"

He swaggers up to me, leaning close. His eyes are so bright. I think he's going to kiss me. Instead, he says, "Dare."

I look up at him. His cheeks are already warm. "Dance with me."

"No problem." He takes another sip and twirls me around. I latch myself onto his shoulders as he locks his arms around my waist. We sway for a bit, giggling. I make him spin with me. Round and round we go. My head is a bit dizzy. The small voice in my head is saying that I shouldn't be doing this and will regret it in the morning. But I ignore it and keep spinning with Day. All the while, our hands never stay still. He's tracing feather light circle on my arm. I'm feeling every goosebump on his neck. I didn't notice we stopped spinning. I just wanted to touch every part of him. Day was beautiful. His nose, his asymmetrical eyes, his hair that glowed silver at night. I played with the tips of his hair, the dip of his lips, the hollow of his collarbone. My tongue replaces my hands, chest pressed against Day's. His breaths grew heavy, cheeks bright red. They were never red. "June June June," he breathes, nuzzling my neck. The smell of alcohol was so strong. "I dare you to stop touching me like that." I try to pull back, but he doesn't let me. His breath is in my ear, "Not that I don't love it...just don't know if I can stop if you keep doing that."

I shake my head. Day sighs, "You're drunk."

"No. I'm no-ot. Not. No-" Those thoughts float away. I can't think about anything but Day breathing on my neck. It sent tingles everywhere. I drop my hands to his neck. "There." I can't keep my voice steady. "Truth or dare?"

He laughs a bit and mutters, "Truth."

I still for a second. He notices for a second and pulls me down to sit with him. We sit, starry-eyed and face to face, for a few seconds. I feel strangely cold. Day looks dissatisfied and pulls me into his lap. I usually didn't like being cradled unless we're kissing. But for some reason, I settle myself there slowly with my lagging limbs. My legs on either side of him. The empty glass bottle clatters onto its side. I look him in the eyes. They're so pretty. I decide to tell him. "You're so pretty. Such blue eyes. I always liked that about you. Then there's that dip of your lips and..." The words keep tumbling out and my face is burning.

He lets out another laugh, loud and full of sunshine. It lights up the room."Junie, I thought you were going to ask me something."

Damn, his voice was husky. I try and think. What was I going to say? I stare a little harder at him.

"You don't remember?"

My eyes widened, then I slur, "I do I do remember tell me w-why you are so sad did I do something?" My mind feels fuzzy. "I know I'm a terrible person to do-whatever our relationship is-with I don't usually listen and not that good at kissing and say "and" too much and don't know how to say you're one of the best things that has ever happened to me without sounding stupid and it was all my fault that half your family is dead its all my fault." I take a huge breath. My cheeks feel wet. I don't understand. But right now, I don't why I am telling him any of this. His forehead is touching mine. I keep my gaze on the floor. "I-I am sorry, Day."

He lifts my chin to meet his gaze. His eyes were soft. "It's not your fault, June." He kisses me, close mouthed and sweet. I close my eyes. I can feel his wet tears against mine. He's holding me now. I'm still mumbling apologies after we break apart. "I miss them. I do. I think about them everyday. I miss Tess too. But it wasn't your fault." I know it was, but I don't speak. Instead, I try to bury myself in him, squeezing him tight. Maybe if we stay like this long enough, the pain will be squeezed out of him. He hugs back. The weight of his chin is back on my head. I can hear his soft sniffles in the silence.

We stay like that for a long time. I was suddenly very tired. My eyelids fluttered close. Day's breathing grew steady.

I almost jumped out of my skin when he muttered, "Truth or dare?"

* * *

><p><strong>Next chapter is going to be a continuation of the game (a little less sad). Is there anything you want them to do? Leave requests in the reviews. And yeah, I threw in the red rose from <strong>**_Champion_**** because I thought it would be pretty cool to graffiti. **

**Thanks for reading! Until next time. c:**


	3. Taste of Neverland

Chapter Three

**DAY**

"Truth or dare?" I get out the words as we are both on the edge of sleep. I want to keep playing. I want her to pick dare. Her lips are so red; her cheeks so wet. I wanted to stop that emptiness in her eyes. June didn't deserve to feel that way. June deserved the best, not a boy on the streets like me. I had to be better for her.

"Dare," she said. I high-fived myself. She laughed, snorting a bit; the type of laugh she only let out when she was drunk.

Our foreheads fit into place together, "I dare you to kiss me."

She smiles again before wrapping her arms around my neck. The kiss is sloppy, all tongues and teeth. Our teeth smash together in a weird way. I lift her chin a bit because I am slightly more sober than her and know what position will not cause teeth collisions. She pushes me to the ground as I grab her waist and pull her down with me. I feel every dip and curve of her body, loving every part. My entire body is on fire. Every touch from her is failing to cool me down. She moans into my mouth and the rest of the night is a blur.

Memory is supposed to work like a video, right? Tonight was more like a series of half-assed shots that didn't make sense, but looked like an inside joke. There was one moment where June was tugging my shirt off, causing me to grow even warmer. There was her skin on mine, her lips like a lightning rod all over mine. Another moment, there's me just loosing myself in the whimpers she made as I laid wet kisses across her skin. I probably mumbled_ love you very lot_ somewhere, but it was lost in translation when she flipped us over. Then I was running my hands through her long hair, glowing in moonlight and free from its cage. I kissed her over and over. Somewhere in the haze, I realized that the only thing I was drunk on was June.

* * *

><p>I wake up to hammers pounding on my head. Sunlight is too bright and cheery for me right now. My right arm is numb and my lips feel puffy. I blink a few more times before I can see anything. There's a figure I am curled up with: June, hair spilling into her face. Memories flood back into my head.<p>

_June twirling, dark hair sparkling. _

_Her tears. _

_Remembering my family._

_Kissing June senseless._

I brush the dark strands behind her ear and look at her. I rarely wake up before her. There is always a nightmare to wake up from and sleep to catch up on. Tonight it was blissfully blank. June's eyelashes cast long shadows across her cheekbones. They were still bit red. My eyes travel down to her lips, which are bruised and puffy._ Did I really do that?_ I didn't want to move yet. I shift a bit to roll on my back, trying not to wake June up. Her lips press together for a moment, but she immediately finds my chest and nuzzles herself in it. I look down at her, my cheeks getting red. _I'm such an idiot. I can't believe I love her._ I pause, catching myself.

Did I really _love_ her? I'm pretty sure I said it last night, but was that just the ramblings of a drunk man. I look at her again. June Iparis, the girl sharper than an arrowhead who took on the world to find her brother's killer. Then, she turned her back on everything that was familiar to save a boy on the streets. I loved her. Could she really love me back? There's still a voice in my head that tells me she only saved my life out of guilt. She's only doing all this out of guilt. I shake my head again and look at the ceiling.

It had small cracks in it, reminding me of my old house. Mom. She always used to smell like flowers. Her tired hands always held me up. Then, I had to go and leave. It was the last thing I wanted to do. I missed Eden's birthday, made them think I was dead and made Mom lose another person she loved. Did leaving them really make a difference? _They're dead now anyway_. I tighten my grip on June's shoulders.

**JUNE**

There's a strangely tightness on my shoulders. A burst of pain shoots through my head. I try to ignore it, but it won't go away. I open my eyes lazily and bore straight into Day's. He's a little fuzzy; his gaze isn't on me. He's thinking again. There's a faraway look in his eyes that tells him it's about his family. I try not to blame myself and roll off him as quickly as I can. My head aches at the motion. I remember vague flashes of yesterday. Mostly because it was one embarrassing memory after another.

_Spinning like idiot._

_Crying._

_Making Day cry._

_Moaning like a banshee every time he touched me._

Lazily, he shifts so that he is sitting straight, looking at me. The corner of his mouth lifts up. Then, he gives me a chaste kiss on the lips. I let myself smile. He pulls away, trying to stifle a laugh. I ignore him and try to find my elastic. My hair was everywhere. When my back is turned, I can sniffles and giggles until its full blown laughing. I turn slowly, "What?!" I blink. His smile reveals a row of pearly whites. I don't understand how he can maintain such bright teeth during his time in the streets.

"You...you," he says between laughs.

My eyes widen. "What is it?"

"You look like bruised banana!"

I freeze, blushing for no reason. There were no mirrors here. I scoff, "You're lying." My words are slow and drawn out.

He looks taken back for a second; it is quickly replaced by a knowing smirk. He closes the distance between us. "Why would I lie about that?" his voice is low, each word slowly pronounced. He ducks his head down, "There's one here..." His lips touch the spot on my neck. "And here." Another spot. I close my eyes, refusing to show reaction. "And here." His head lowers further down me, nearing dangerously near my chest. My breath hitches. _Dammit._ But he stops and traces another hickey with his tongue. Day stands straight again, smiling.

"I hate you," I pout. My cheeks are bright red. This has happened too much the last few days. We were getting distracted.

Day doesn't even seem fazed by my words. He just smiles wider, "I thought you loved my eyes and the dip of my lips and..."

I blush harder. "Shut up."_ Never get drunk with Day again._ I cross the room and pick up the scarf. It got discarded during last night's...events. It fits snugly along my neck, hiding all marks and love bites. I rummage through Day's pack and grab an apple. "C'mon, we have to get going if we want to find the Patriots." With those words, I begin to climb out the window. Day's right behind me. A sudden wave of dizziness hits me. My fingers let go suddenly without my command. "Wha-"

I land up in heap of Day's body parts and mine. Suddenly aware of the pounding in my head, everything else just hit me in the face. Everything that was stimuli hurt, the red and black wall, the birds outside, the stupid sunlight. I just needed a dark room to shut myself away in for a couple hours. I closed my eyes, trying to block out all. Day's all too loud voice is in my ear, "Hangover, huh?" I feel myself being moved and then the coldness of the wall.

I nod, hidden from sunlight streaming through the window. "I'll keep watch, just go to sleep."

I try to shake my head. We have to get going. As if he heard my thought process, he said, "Seriously, rest. You're no fun groggy. I'm in better shape than you right now." I scrunch my eyebrows with more protest. But then the darkness swallowed me whole.

* * *

><p>A couple of hours later I awake to the room, glowing in orange. I stand up and wipe the sleep out of my eyes. It looks like it is at least 6 in the afternoon. My head is better. But, thanks to me, a whole day has been wasted. I tug the scarf closer around my neck and shoulders and look around for Day. He's in the corner, looking at the graffiti.<p>

"Hey, famous, we should get going."

He turns his head in surprise, "You feeling better?"  
>I nod, noticing the mess of his hair. He lied. His hangover was bad as mine. "Let's go."<p>

"It's almost dark. We should stay here tonight."

"We can't. It's too risky."

He looks at me with those blue eyes. He's tired. I know, but the Republic has my fingerprints and his face. They're hunting us down, waiting for the moment when they get to kill us both. We made fools out of them. And that is something the Republic will never tolerate. He sighs and gets up, grabbing his pack. "Okay, okay, let's go."

* * *

><p>The sun is setting pretty fast once we get out into the open. We needed a place to stay with no idea where to start. Open space wasn't an option. No one really looked at homeless people. But right now, it was different. Everyone was looking for Day; they hung on to the slight hope that he was still alive. There was no way he could expose himself now. Not yet.<p>

We wander around for a bit, poking in empty looking buildings that turn out to be preoccupied. I snatched bits of food while Day pokes around the crowds. His hat is firmly set in place, concealing his long blond hair. I lean against the brick wall of a building, playing with my knife. It swings around and around; the metal gleaming in sunset glow. It's nice, honing my senses again. I just feel lost in my body with alcohol.

The sounds of hustle and bustle flow its way through the air. There wasn't anything like this in the Republic. Everything was silent in the Republic; people were distant and clean, always minding their own business. Here, everyone knew each other in some way. They traded and cried together. They survived together. There was a bond that could be felt in the air.

In the metal of my knife, I see Day comes my way with two other people, flanking him. I let it swing three more turns before I put it away. I glance warily at the two strangers, "Who are they?"

Day slips a hand around my waist and nudges me with his hip. I don't relax. "They're some old friends, Peter and Wendy. They're offering us a place to stay."

I frown, "Why?"

Wendy laughs, making her light brown hair shake. "Relax. We go way back."

"Yeah," Peter punches him in the shoulder. A weird way to show affection. "Actually, we'll just really glad he's alive."

I give Day a look. I still don't feel comfortable with this.

There is a brief amount of silence after that, but then Peter claps his hands and says, "Then we best get going." With those words, he and Wendy begin to walk towards the north side of town. I let myself trail behind them; Day stays with me, his eyes pleading. At first, he's just silent. But then he cracks, whispering, "I know you feel weird about this. But we can trust them, I swear."

"Even if we do trust them," I reply, "What are we going to do next? We still have no clue where the Patriots are. We're no closer to where we were a week ago."

He takes a deep breath, lowering his voice even more. "They know about the Patriots. A lot."

I raised an eyebrow, "Why?"

Before he could answer, Peter called out, "We're here."

In front of us was an apartment building, clean and well put together. I clenched my fist. There was no way of pair of ragtag kids could afford something this nice. I glance at Day. If he was surprised, he didn't show it. He took my clenched hand, squeezed it a bit and led me into the building. Peter whistled something at the elevator and it opened as soon as the last note rung out. G, D, G, F.

The elevator went to the highest level. One wall had a floor to ceiling window. I couldn't imagine the purpose of that. On the walls without window, there were bookshelves. Not like the empty ones I had seen at the library, these shelves were spilling out with worn edged books. (182) Atlases, history books, folders, profiling photos, strewn across the shelves. Sometimes there would be strains of yard connecting them. There was all kinds of information that the Republic could rule as treachery. Wendy saw me, drawing to a conclusion, and smiled. I did not smile back, "What exactly do you do?"

Peter left conversation with Day to go to Wendy's side. He had the build of Day, a build of a thief. Light on his feet, but still able to scale buildings. Always ready to run. Even now, he was bouncing slightly. "I'll explain...," he glanced at Day for a second. In return, Day just nodded. "We are the Lost Boys."

"That's not entirely true," Wendy interjected. "There's me and Tiger Lily."

Peter rolled his dark brown eyes, but there was still a smirk on his face. That was another thing I didn't like about him: his always constant smirk. "We're the Lost Boys plus Wendy and Tiger."

"And you track people down, why?"

He didn't miss a beat. "For the money, of course...You see, the Lost Boys know everything and anything about this part of town. It's Sector Sky, but everyone knows it as Neverland. We started off as bunch of kids who knew things because adults don't know that kids can understand them too. There were people that wanted to know the things we knew."

"People that would pay for the info. And even more for an action."

They were smart and clever to set up an organization like this. The name was a bit childish. Still, not many kids ended up like them. They probably owned the whole building, the Lost Boys. And the Republic had no idea what they were doing. But there was still something that didn't make sense. "How come you don't just steal what you need? It would be easier."

Wendy and Peter shared a secret smile. "Because all of this-" he gestured to the room, "-is just too much fun." I let out a small smile. They liked the thrill, the adventure, the good vs. bad. It was just a pure want. It was so innocent, so child-like.

"Fun is all you can think about, Peter," Day said, "You'll get yourself killed one day."

"Shuttup, Tink. You're one to talk."

"Tink?" I raised an eyebrow, trying to hide a smile. It was such a cute name.

He blushed and glared at Peter, "Don't even ask."

* * *

><p><strong>I forgot to say this before, but all Marie Lu owns Legend and she will always own Legend. <strong>

**And yeah, Peter and Wendy are a part of the story because I thought it would be pretty interesting. I like the Lost Boys AU stuff and they would fit nicely in the Legend slums with Day. Oh, more on why he's Tink later...kinda fits him, don't you think? **

**Thank you for reading! Please review ^-^**


	4. Tink

Chapter 4

**DAY**

We end up sitting in a circle, waiting for two the Lost Boys to come up. They had information to tell Peter, something about a sighting. Peter ended up better than most of the kids we went to school with, even without his parents. He was different before they died, carefree and had the belief that anything could happen. Now, he was jaded and barely let anyone past that ever present smirk. Nonetheless, he was now King of an Empire. I don't know how he did it. I might have a reputation, but he had recruits.

Peter turned to me and raised his eyebrows. _Yes. I will explain about Wendy._

I roll my eyes. That wasn't what I was going to say, but I was curious about it anyway. Wendy didn't make sense. She was the last person that I thought would join the Lost Boys. From what I have observed so far, she's precise, responsible and caring. Wendy was everything Peter was not. She was everything the Lost Boys stood against really. She was order.

I tried to figure this out when the elevator dinged twice. Peter whistled a different tune this time. The doors rolled open to revealed two boys, who couldn't have been older than eleven.

"Slightly, Nibs," he addressed them individually, "You said you saw one of the Pirates?"

"Pirates?" June asked.

"Oh, it's just something we call them," Nibs said, his voice still high-pitched. He wrinkled his nose before saying, "We don't really like the Pirates."

"Yeah. We tracked one down. Followed him a bit," the taller boy, Slightly, said. "Name's Pascao. He's a Runner."

"He's been around this Sector for some reason. I think it's because of the increase of patrols around here." Nibs said. It made me cringe a bit, hearing him talk so seriously. He was Eden's age. He wasn't supposed to be talking about these things. "There were three that hit around the perimeter of the Sector. The only one we could identify so far was Pascao." He handed Peter an open file folder. On the top, I spotted a picture of a curly haired boy with light gray eyes. There's a slight lift on one corner of his mouth. Peter grabbed the folder and started shifting through the papers, his eyebrows pushed together. All the while, he was muttering, "Yeah...Pascao...down on West...blew up a..." He stopped shuffling and smirked, "This guy would've been a great flier."

"Flier?" June's voice cut through the air.

Wendy glanced at her, "Yeah, a flier. You know, like-"

"We'll show her tomorrow when we locate Pascao," Peter interrupted, his smirk growing wider. "It'll be a lot of fun."

She raised her eyebrows, but said nothing more. She didn't seem to notice, but her arms unfolded. I smiled a bit.

Peter goes on to say, "He's the best lead we have right now. Find him, track him and find the Patriots." He turns to me, "That's what you need, right?"

I nod, feeling grateful. He really didn't need this on his hands right now. He looked at me again. _Missions are my thing. It's not a big deal.__  
><em>

I look away. "Okay, let's get started."

A large map of the Sky Sector is pinned to the wall, faded at the edges, but still current enough for the most part. Peter chuckles behind me, folder in hand. The area wasn't that large. Instead, it was surrounded by other larger Sectors, including Lake. Lake Sector was near here. I groan in frustration. Peter was at risk because of me. Everyone was risk because of me.

* * *

><p>The sun was long gone by now. Clocks didn't exist in this building and with it, neither did time. June and Wendy teamed up to look through the stacks of information on other Patriots, looking for patterns. Wendy provided a constant stream of comments while June interjected on occasion. I can't help but grin at how comfortable she seemed here.<p>

Tiger Lily came to say hello and left a bracelet as a gift for June. (She accepted it without so much of a blink) Tiger came over and hugged me, "You missed a lot. We need updates," she glanced micheviously at June, "But I guess you've been busy." I raised an eyebrow, but she gave a knowing stare and talked to Peter about something.

A little while later, Peter still stared at the map we decorated in green and blue pins, all the locations the Patriot was spotted. Red string outlined his paths. Nothing was consistent so far. There was no pattern I could see. Everywhere he went seemed almost random, but it couldn't have been like that; the Patriots were never random.

Peter looked away from the map in frustration, vocalizing some of my thoughts "I don't know, Day. Maybe the kid is just wandering around."

"You know the Patriots They never just 'wander'."

He opens his mouth for a second, but then shut it. His shoulder slumped. "Whatever, let's take a break."

"Fine by me," I said, flinging the paper out of my hand.

"Wendy, Junie," he yawned, stretching "Let's break for a bit."

Wendy jumped up, smoothing down her hair. "Finally!" She held out a hand to June, who just shook her head. She took a pen out of her hair and underlined something in the book. Wendy joined us in the elevator and shrugged, "June really likes the book..."

"What book?" I asked while the doors began to close.

Wendy yawned a bit, "History before the Flood." She abruptly changed the subject, We need a clock."

"Time is for losers," Peter snorted.

"Time is for people who get to things on time," retorted Wendy, "And sleep."

He rolled his eyes, "We don't need clocks."

I raised my eyebrows at him. His voice wasn't as razor sharp as he wanted to be. He ignored me.

"Yes, we do. We're going to grow up sometime. We can't do _this_ forever." The elevator dinged and Wendy got off, saying something about how she needed to check on Curly (the youngest member of the Lost Boys who's parents had been murdered in front of him) for a bit. The doors closed again and Peter was silent, looking and pouting at the floor like a little kid.

He refuses to meet my eyes, "She's practical." _Like June._

Peter stays silent, clenching his fists. After a few moments, he let out a breath. "Yeah, sometimes I wish she wasn't." I raised an eyebrow.

He made a face, "What?"

"You like her, cousin." I grin at him, "How did you even manage to convince her to join the Lost Boys?"

He shrugs, still staring at the carpet. Red dusts his cheeks.

I laugh, "Peter likes a girl! Peter likes a girl!"

He tries to hit me, but I knew it was coming. I spin and get him into a headlock. The elevator stopped. All he needs to do is whistle to get it open. "Admit it!"

He struggles a bit. But I just hold on tighter. Somewhere along the line, he probably figured I wouldn't stop (because I wouldn't. It was too much fun). He let his weight drop and mumbled something. _Mwhahahaha. _

"What was that?"

"Shuttup," he muttered and pushed me away, red hair sticking up in all directions. I let go willingly and lightly fall against the wall. He whistled and practically stormed out.

"Awh, don't be mad," I tease again, catching up with him. He grunts. We get drinks from what seems like the kitchen of the building. It's filled with shiny counters and sinks, but it looks like the only object being used was the fridge. We sit down at a table. The blush across his cheekbones has grown stronger. _Ah, the joins of love. _

"So..." I gestured.

His head snaps up, "So what?"

"Tell me...why her? She's practical. She's good. She's full of dreams."

"Why can't I like a girl like that?" Peter quirks.

I just give him a look, "Explain. You said you were going before."

He exhales loudly again; I can tell he's giving up. He looks away, "You should see her when she tells the boys stories...her voice is so alive." He pauses, "No, it's _magic_. The boys get these stupid little grins that make them look like kids again. She cares about them so much...and her _eyes.._" He blushed harder.

I can't help but laugh. "Finally someone brings the King down to his knees."

I laugh even harder when he pushes me to the ground.

* * *

><p><strong>JUNE<strong>

When they talked about "flying", I didn't think they actually meant _flying. _And I didn't think it would be so _amazing_. I laugh at Peter as I do another flip, feeling like I could do anything. The stars didn't shine down on me; they surrounded me, guided me in every direction. The feeling was euphoric. I could stay here forever. Day pushed himself towards me and lets out a laugh, a smile finally reaching his eyes. I grab his wrist before he could float too far away from me. This time, he crashed his lips into mine. I can feel his grin against mine. Yes, I really wish I could stay here forever.

* * *

><p>"Flying?" I asked, incredulously. We had just spent a day, searching for Pascao or whatever his name was. He had no pattern. We checked almost every spot he had ever been and then some. Every spot of Neverland. It was almost as if he knew we were looking and where we would be. When the sun began to set, we decided to gather ourselves and find our way back into the building. When we got reached the top, Peter got word that the Patriot was spotted on the south side of the sector. We were on the North. Day swore.<p>

Peter barely uttered the word flying before Wendy dumped a series of rope and hooks onto the table, "We did not just waste a whole day. We're finding him," she said, her voice determined. She looked at me, "Yes, June, flying."

Peter smiled when her back was turned. Then, he clapped his hands together (for the sixth time today), "Okay, we have time to show Junie here the ropes." He looked at me. "Should be easy, since Tink invented it."

"Do not call me Junie."

"Don't call me Tink, you ass."

But it was like he was deaf to anything that was said. He turned towards Day, "You remember how to work the dust right?"

I raised an eyebrow, "Dust? Are we doing drugs?"

They all burst into laughter. "No, no, Junie, no," Wendy gasped out through her laughter. She finally got a hold of herself and then said, "Fairy dust."

I stared at her blankly, refraining myself from saying _It still sounds like a drug and I still don't have any idea of what you are talking about and I am not going to get high with you _and a little bit of _Do not call me Junie._

She looked at my blank face and the smile returned to her face again, "Oh I'm sorry! It'll be so much easier just to show you." She takes my arm and tugs me toward the stairs that lead to the roof. I shoot a glance at Day, who just mouths 'good luck'. I want to smack him.

Thirty six steps later, we are at very top of the building, a very dangerous spot where she could push me any second. I feel for my knife when she looked toward the skyline. It was the time when the stars and sun were out at the same time. "You know this place wasn't all that bad," she murmured, "It actually used to be beautiful...like this."

I looked at her. Her eyes were liquid gold, reflective of the sun. She was a million miles away. "Wendy?"

She shook her head a bit and faced me, "Sorry. Flying. Yeah."

Her bag she brought was full of rope. The small pocket on the side bulged with two bottled shaped bumps. She dipped her hand in the small pocket and wiped a strange substance on the rope. It glittered.

"Put this around your waist."

I didn't move.

"C'mon, your boyfriend invented this. It's safe. It's from the Republic. You should trust him." She wasn't lying.

"You should tell me this is even for."

She just smiled, "You should just trust _me_." She held out the rope. I still didn't move.

"Fine. Stay here while we look for Pascao. It won't take that long."

That was worse. The 'Lost Boys' gave me an eerie feeling. They were too young. They didn't even take the test yet. Their futures didn't have be like _this._ I stared at the rope in front of me. The liquid was clear and sparkling. There _was _something familiar about it, but I couldn't remember what it was for. Wendy said, "What's life with a little risk?"

I grabbed the rope and wrapped it around me several times. I didn't even feel the substance. It wasn't sticky or smooth. It was there. Wendy had wrapped a rope around her waist the same way I did. Then, she was swallowing a small blue pill from a separate pouch. I widened my eyes a bit. "Drugs?"

Her laughter rang through the air, "No. Take it. It'll make the experience a lot easier."

I raised an eyebrow, "What experience? You killing me?"

"Okay fine," she said, raising her hands. "You technically don't have to take this. It just makes things better in the morning."

I nod, still wary. She picks up the back, "I'll be right back. Peter and Tink are probably going to need this too."

I hear her footsteps go down the metal staircase. Once I know she's gone, I walk towards the railing of the building and look down. I was right. There was a perfect view of the marketplace from here. There was always something on the side of the building. It was a mark of some sort...

Suddenly, I feel a push behind me. My thoughts fire one by one. There was no time for screaming.

_Do not fall._

My fingernails scratch the stone and metal. I feel blood dripping as one of nails fall off.

_Attack the pusher. Do not fall._

I rip the knife out my back pocket and sense the ripping of the flesh. There is more blood.

_You're falling now._

I barely hear Wendy's shout of pain through the wind whistling past my ears. I see the ground coming closer and closer as the seconds tick by. The market place suddenly feels so much closer. My hands flail wildly with nothing to grip. I try to delay the fall. There is nothing but whistling and the ground getting closer closer closer.

_Think._

I close my eyes.

_Slow it down._

I take a breath.

_Think, Junebug, think._

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer<strong>**: The characters will always belong to their authors. In this case, Marie Lu will always own Day, June and the world of Legend.**

**Hello all! Thank you for reading this again. It really means a lot. I would really appreciate it if you left a review. Reviews are like treats to writers. You'll get more updates and improvements. So in the end, it's a win-win situation, yeah? **

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